


Green Door

by middlemarch



Category: The Hour
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Vignette, oblique
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: Would it open again?





	Green Door

“What if we went where there was no story, Bel? Somewhere dull and ordinary, where there could never be a story or a secret,” Freddie asked, standing near the window. The light from the street-lamp was on his face but his throat was daubed with shadow and she noticed how slowly he swallowed the last of the whiskey she’d poured. He didn’t care for spirits but he drank anyway.

“There’s always a secret, Freddie. You know that,” she answered. She ached, the small of her back pressed against her chair, her legs in the heels she could not do without, behind her eyes where she saw them, in Torquay or Birmingham, everything coolly grey, a place he would take her ungloved hand and put it in his pocket.

“Not one worth our time. Our time-- what would we do with it?” _Ours_ , he said, the word unfamiliar, intoxicating, the way his hips moved when he danced with her, the way it felt when she read the article over his shoulder and laid her hand on his shoulder without thinking.

“Whatever we wanted, I suppose,” Bel replied. Christ, it was late! It felt late, anyway, and that was nearly the same, when night had fallen.

“Do you want so much?” he said lightly but she knew what it meant when he was careful. It was the same when he grazed her elbow with his arm and when he let his eyes slide from her gaze to her lips, to the necklace she wore.

“You know I do. I’m greedy, selfish.” There it was, the truth. He liked the truth, he could do things with it no one else could. 

“You’re lovely,” he said. She blushed like a schoolgirl even as she felt her toes cramp in the high heel, a pain she would have to wait out. “Lovely,” he repeated, as if she hadn’t heard him.

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble of sorts, more than three sentences, but of that ilk, on Bel and Freddie, post-canon-- in love and indirect, angsty and burdened and more aware of each other than themselves perhaps. The Green Door was in the top 100 songs on the UK charts in 1956.


End file.
